Dark Beginnings
by CathyCullen16
Summary: Have you ever wondered how Voldemort turned out the way he did? Well, this is that story. Light bashing, eventual slash. M for a reason (in later chapters).


**AN:Please let me know if anything gets confusing. I obviously don't own Harry Potter, this is fan fiction. A big thanks to Bramblerose4 for being my beta for not just this** **story but every story I'm writting, your thoughts and opinions are appreciated. As always enjoy and please review!**

_1982_

As I floated somewhere between life and death I felt the depression set in. There seemed to be no sense of time so I had no idea how long I have been stuck like this. How did things get to be like this? I remembered casting the Killing Curse at the Potter's one year old son, then darkness. The next thing I knew was that I most definitely wasn't in Godric's Hollow and I didn't have by human body. How did I end up this way? What has happened to me? As I began to ponder these questions the answers slowly came to me bringing up memories that were better left buried.

* * *

_1932, June 20_

I was six years old and beginning to realize just how different I was from the other kids at Wool's Orphanage.

"What are you staring at you little freak?" a ten year old boy named Will spat down at me. We were on the playground that sat around the back of the orphanage. I had just settled for sitting on a swing after being rejected when I asked to join in a game of tag that the boys my age were playing. I had only briefly glanced at the boy as he walked by with his friends.

"S-sorry" I cringed away hoping that I would avoid another beating from the boy and his friends.

"Sorry are you?" He said moving toward me cracking his knuckles. His cronies surrounded me so that I couldn't possibly escape.

"Y-yes I-I am. Please, please I didn't mean too. It won't happen again." I pleaded with him, but I knew it was a fruitless effort. I hung my head and waited defenselessly for the first blow, knowing that no one, not even the owner, Mrs. Cole would help me.

I didn't have to wait long. As soon as I felt a fist collide with my jaw, I fell to the ground curling into a fetal position, covering my head trying to protect as much of my body as possible from the punches and kicks.

When they had finished and left me bleeding and bruised on the ground I carefully lifted myself up and limped inside the orphanage. I pressed my lips together to prevent any involuntary gasps of pain and tried to avoid bringing any attention to myself on the way to my bedroom. I refused to cry a single tear until my door was closed behind me, regardless of how much pain I felt both physically and emotionally, but I could feel my eyes begin to burn, ready to over-flow with tears. I reached my room successfully but as soon as the door clicked closed I felt the tears run down my face. I turned around leaning my back against the door and slid down to the floor. With my arms wrapped tightly around my knees, a fresh wave of tears hit and I felt my heart constrict more as I saw the empty bed across from mine. Normally there were two children to a room at the orphanage but who would want to share a room with a freak? Most children would have been happy to have their own room but for me it only seemed to emphasize the fact that I was not normal.

I skipped supper that night and cried myself to sleep, not unlike many other nights.

* * *

_1935, December 31_

"Hey Tom, come look" she said standing near the edge of the cliff. I had just turned nine and we were on our yearly holiday trip from the orphanage.

"What, Parnella?" I asked, picking myself up from where I was sitting on a boulder and walking next to her.

"Isn't it pretty?" she replied taking my hand.

I looked out scanning the landscape. The rocky cliff over-looked a sea of salty water which eventually met a grey, fog filled sky. There seemed to be nothing special about it, but nothing seemed beautiful to me anymore. The sunshine shining through my window in the morning wasn't beautiful as it had once seemed; it meant the beginning of another dreadful day, the flowers in the garden outside of the orphanage weren't beautiful anymore; they served as a reminder that they were more important and cared for than I was , and the stained glass windows of the church we all were forced to visit which had once seemed so beautiful no longer held there brilliance to me for they only reminded me of the God I was forced to kneel before and pray to. Oh how I had prayed for years that someone would help me that someone would care, that I wouldn't be the freak anymore but that was too much to ask of a God that so obviously doesn't care about freaks. I even got a beating for praying by Will and his cronies and so I haven't prayed since. It obviously doesn't help anyways.

"Sure" I replied to save myself an argument.

She looked over at me as I stared at the scenery. "Don't be so bitter." She leaned in kissing my cheek. "Everything will turn out fine in the end you'll see."

Parnella came to the orphanage three months ago at the age of eight and against all warnings, including my own she became somewhat of a friend to me. I suppose she was really my best friend seeing as she was the only one I had but I still had problems letting her in.

Sure she had heard about my uncanny ability to make things happen that shouldn't happen, at least not in the way I make them happen but she certainly hadn't seen it happen. It's different to know about something than it is to actually see it. I learned that lesson the hard way.

Couples that had previously considered adopting me were told that strange things would happen around me and all of them would think much of it other than that maybe I was a strange child. That's not what deterred them, no. It was when I something strange happened when I met them that made them immediately reconsider. After the first three times that had happened I realized that it seemed to happen when I got excited that there might be someone that wanted me. As time went on I was just angry and started to lash out on purpose, there was no need to tease myself. No one would ever want me that was a fact.

Parnella always seemed to pick up that when I was depressed, which was all the time and would always say things to try to make me feel better. I was beginning to become attached to her which would only end badly for me.

"Here" she said taking a small folded piece of paper from her coat pocket "Happy Birthday."

I took the paper from her and unfolded it revealing a photograph of the both of us together smiling. Well my smile was faked but hers was genuine. Her arm was around my shoulder as if we had been friend all our lives even though she had only been at the orphanage for a week when the picture had been taken. The only reason the photograph _had_ been taken was because Mrs. Cole, the owner liked to keep a variety of photographs available for potential adopters. I had no idea how she had gotten ahold of it but I wasn't about to ask. I felt the familiar burn of tears in my eyes. Yes, this was most definitely going to end badly for me.


End file.
